


You're Just The Same As You Ever Were

by fridaysblues (taemin)



Series: Music & Lyrics [1]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, M/M, Rock Stars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-31
Updated: 2013-03-31
Packaged: 2018-03-18 07:22:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3561074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taemin/pseuds/fridaysblues
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They were supposed to debut together, but Jongdae's career has been doing <i>just fine</i> without Lu Han.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're Just The Same As You Ever Were

Kim Jongdae is a rock star.

Chen (as he calls himself: _"Mononymous musicians are really the only ones that people remember,"_ he says, winking) is explosive, unpredictable: a dynamic performer with charismatic stage presence, a reputation for spontaneous jam sessions and going on tangents that end with unrehearsed covers of his favorite songs because he's _"feeling the music, living in the moment! It just felt right!"_

He goes through musicians in his band at an alarming rate, every one of them stressing that while they love his enthusiasm, they can't handle the tenacious energy, the rapid changes, the impulsive substitutions on the fly. He's quick to lavish them with praise, but even quicker to turn on them for lagging tempos, dropped notes, and missed key changes. In short: working for Kim Jongdae is exhausting.

Lu Han loves entertaining just as much, but maybe a third as loudly. He has a routine. A certain brand of water, a bracelet he always wears: he craves consistency, predictability. He's had the same keyboardist for years; he just recently had to replace his bassist and spent six weeks agonizing over a replacement, insisting on hearing the auditions of nearly twenty before he finally settled. The set list is never, ever up for debate after it's finalized at dress. No impromptu encores. Ever. He's too protective of his voice to worry that he's missing out on creating goodwill with his fans. He doesn't want to have any unnecessary distractions. He wants to know when he steps on that stage, he's got one job: be Luhan. Sing Luhan's songs with Luhan's voice and remember Luhan's choreography.

Lu Han hates Chen.

Hate's a strong word, actually. It's more seething jealousy and resentment, annoyed by Jongdae's gyrating hips as he grinds into the microphone stand or his tendency to pepper melismatic runs in his performances ( _"He's using thirty notes when three would do - just sing the damn song!"_ Lu Han complains backstage). He's got a laundry list of complaints after that, all of them trivial but just as likely to send Lu Han on a tirade about musicianship and professionalism.

They're playing a showcase, their record company's idea of a blow-out leading up to the debut of some new duo ( _"Baekyeol?"_ Lu Han snorts in derision at the moniker but begrudgingly admits that the soft guitar music and tenor vocals are nice to listen to).

Soundcheck goes by without a hitch but it's already like a furnace in the theatre; it's even worse under the lights. His shirt's already gone translucent, his skin glossy with a fine sheen of perspiration. The sound guy gives him the okay through his in-ear monitor and he bows towards the darkened audience quickly before pushing backstage and out the nearest emergency exit, gasping for fresh air.

"Hey. Don't let it shut, or we'll be locked out," a smooth voice from his left intones, startling him. It's Jongdae, cigarette balanced between two fingers, leaning up against the brick of the venue. Lu Han's fingertips catch the door just in time.

"Thanks." Jongdae flicks ash from the smoldering tip with a flick of his index finger. "I put a rock in the door, but it wasn't working very well."

Lu Han wrinkles his nose at the smell. "You really shouldn't smoke, you know. Bad for your voice."

Jongdae rolls his eyes. "Don't worry about it. You're not my manager. And don't tell him, either - he thinks I'm taking a walk to _compose myself_ before tonight's show."

Lu Han shrugs at this, not invested enough in Jongdae's career to give a shit whether or not he wrecks his throat. He won't say anything.

Jongdae holds the cigarette out towards him. "Here."

"No, thanks."

He chuckles, taking another deep drag and letting the smoke wisps curl out of his nostrils. "Yeah. I know."

"Soundcheck sounded good," Lu Han offers after a moment. "You're really killing it lately."

Jongdae drops the cigarette on the pavement and crushes it with the pointed toe of a leather boot. "Thanks. I'm not sure you _really_ mean it, but I'll take it anyway." He flashes Lu Han a wide grin. "See you inside?"

 

☆☆☆

They've just resumed after an intermission that ran a lot closer to thirty minutes than fifteen and Lu Han's already dozing off on a bench backstage, propped upright against a pillar, when a gentle hand on his shoulder shakes him awake. 

He looks over, bleary-eyed. It's Jongdae, make-up smudged and melting down his face from his earlier set, during which he'd danced behind his guitarist and made a lewd gesture with his pelvis that had the audience shrieking with delight and his manager shaking his head, muttering that he didn't have time to find _another_ new guitarist before the next event on Chen's schedule. 

"Mmm? You need something?" 

"C'mon. Let's get out of here." 

Lu Han raises an eyebrow. "Are you nuts? We've got another two hours of this shit, at least." 

Jongdae smiles. "I know. We won't leave the building, I promise. _Mom._ " 

"We're supposed to stay." 

Jongdae's already on his feet, long fingers wrapped securely around Lu Han's wrist. "I know." 

They end up on the roof, leaning across the skylight to look down at the venue's lobby. A few dozen people are still milling around - mostly event staff, a few merchandise vendors. Their faces pressed against the glass, giggling like school kids, they could just make out the faint strains of the PA system pumping music through the auditorium. 

"This is the happiest I've seen you in a long time," Jongdae says when they've rolled over, staring up at the sky. The city's too polluted with light to see any stars, and Lu Han's a little disappointed as he watches an airplane pass overhead through the smog, red lights blinking. "Have you been okay?" 

Lu Han closes his eyes. "Of course." 

"C'mon. Lu Han," Jongdae reaches out in the dark and puts his hand over Lu Han's. "I mean, I know we haven't talked much since we both debuted, but -- this is me here. You don't need to give me the canned bullshit response you've been rehearsing." 

The plane's disappeared from sight now. Lu Han pulls his hand away, crossing his arms across his chest. "I'm fine."


End file.
